


Little Troubles

by Lilyliegh



Series: Camp Vrains AU [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Camp Vrains, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Camping, Demigods, Friendship, Gen, Magic-Users
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 03:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilyliegh/pseuds/Lilyliegh
Summary: Yuusaku wishes he wasn't a demigod. His abilities enact karma on anyone who dares to harm him—or in Ryouken's case, stare at him. This leads to many, many unfortunate situations of Ryouken stumbling, falling, and altogether being made a fool of at Camp Vrains. Unfortunately, while Takeru makes light of the situation and tries to keep Yuusaku's hopes up about being a demigod, Spectre finds it far too tempting to make this awkward situations occur.Based on the series Percy Jackson & the Olympians.Part of the Camp Vrains AU.





	Little Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> this au is back, this time with the Disaster Trio + Spectre. you'll hear about them quite a bit throughout fics (especially about the problems they create at Camp Vrains), and this chapter centres on a typical morning with everyone (:
> 
> as always, if you want to learn more about the Camp Vrains au, [check out these posts on my blog](https://lily-liegh.tumblr.com/tagged/camp%20vrains%20au) ^^  
> and if you would like to contribute to this series, with art or fic, please let me know and i'll make a larger collection. and of course, any ideas you have, please send them to either [me](https://lily-liegh.tumblr.com/ask) or [Darky](http://darkzorua100.tumblr.com/ask). thank you and i hope you enjoy!

"Oh ... it's burnt."

Yuusaku glances down at the charred remains of Takeru's food. If there's anyone whose powers are more unstable than his own, it would be Takeru. He sets things—people, food, houses—on fire on a weekly basis, and though the kind camp leaders Jin and Kusanagi assure them all that this is just a minor clean-up, both Yuusaku and Takeru know that this is the most damage any single demigod has ever created.

Without a word, Yuusaku pushes his plate over to Takeru.

"Thanks," Takeru says with a warm smile, and happily gobbles up his food. Yuusaku holds onto his mug and swirls the dark coffee inside. No cream, no sugar. Black like his soul, he might say, but it's too early in the morning to speak, and though he's been awake for hours—too tired to fall asleep, if that even makes sense—Yuusaku feels like it takes half the day just for him to wake up.

Around the table are all the other demigods, tucked into picnic benches and happily eating their breakfasts. He avoids the gazes of Aoi and Go, two far-too-competitive demigods who have been itching to duel him for weeks now. He's been avoiding them like the plague. Then there's Ryouken and Spectre who sit on the other side of the mess hall. Ryouken must know he's watching him, but he doesn't raise his head.

Spectre's watching him though. He twirls his fork through the air, one hand lazily cupping his ivory cheek. He looks like a spectre: white hair and skin, and hollow, icy eyes that peer through everyone's souls. With each flick of his fork, flower petals burst from the stem.

Takeru stretches back and peers over his shoulder. "Is he teasing you?"

Yuusaku shrugs. If he is, it's because Spectre has the strongest grasp on his powers. He came into being a demigod and a child of Dionysus with grace and style. His powers never fail him, and he seems the most comfortable with life at Camp Vrains.

_ Splat! _

Water splashes across Ryouken's face, drenching his bangs. Quickly, Yuusaku spins around and pretends that he was minding his own business, but the damage has long been done. From across the hall Ryouken slams a hand down on the picnic table and growls, "Yuusaku."

Playfully, Takeru bumps shoulders with him. "You've been caught."

He didn't mean to. Truly. He was just curious, but once again curiosity killed the cat ... or sprayed water in Ryouken's face.

Takeru chuckles and bumps him again. "Don't worry about it. He's not even coming over."

Yuusaku doesn't dare look over his shoulder again. For some terrible, inexplicable reason, his karma powers  _ only  _ activate around Ryouken. Without fail, if he looks at Ryouken, something bad tends to happen: he trips over his own feet, his food splashes in his face, he loses a duel. And normally, that would mean that Ryouken is thinking bad thoughts about him all the time, or even focusing his mind on him—but can someone ever think about someone else 24/7? It sounds too far-fetched to Yuusaku, and yet time and time again his karma puts Ryouken in the most unfortunate circumstances.

He picks up his cup and carries it to the sink to rinse. Behind him, Takeru hurries to his feet, shovelling the last bites of his breakfast into his mouth. Yuusaku doesn't wait for him, but he takes his time heading out of the mess hall and out one of the doors to the city. While the title "Camp Vrains" sounds like a forest getaway retreat, it's merely a large section of Link Vrains cordoned off for demigods. There are concrete buildings and roads, and various shopping areas that all make this place feel like another, normal city.

... that is, until Yuusaku spots a sizeable chunk of a building blown to bits, courtesy of Takeru's last incident. And then there are demigods soaring on D-Boards and honing their dueling skills, or sword fighting on the same boards. With each twist and turn, the demigods lock in battle and release their powers. For these duelists, they've spent years honing their godly abilities to be able to successfully use them in fights. Yuusaku hasn't been here as long, and still he's not sure he'll ever get a chance to fight.

Takeru loops an arm around his shoulders and tugs him close. "Don't sweat it, Yuusaku. I'm sure everyone's long forgotten it. Besides, maybe he just upturned the bowl all on his own."

Yuusaku merely rolls his eyes. The chances of that happening are slim to none; the chances of his karma powers activating are near-perfect.

"Fine, fine," Takeru says, and gives him another squeeze. Yuusaku lets his body go limp for a moment, and then brushes away when he spots flickers of fire on Takeru's fingertips. Weakly, Takeru brushes them onto his jeans. "Oops."

The two of them head out of the city and towards one of the various parks all around Camp Vrains. Most of these parks are large gathering places for demigods, and on the weekends when they don't have school or training, these areas are packed with youth engaged in combat. In the mornings though, when the sun is still stretching up towards the sky, it's blissfully silent. The further they head down the dusty path, the more relaxed Yuusaku becomes.

At the end of the path is an iron gate encircling an abandoned amusement park. At one point, this must have been a festival attraction for demigods or perhaps even mortals, but it's long since been abandoned. The rides are rusted and bolted to the dirty ground. Vines creep along the sides of tents, and weeds sprout from the stone paths leading up to rides. Yuusaku and Takeru's hideout is here, at the back of the park where a fallen ferris wheel rests. There are still some cars poised in the air, but when it collapsed it fell on top of a drop tower, and thus it leans on its side. Someday, it'll crash to the ground. Until then, their favourite place is the uppermost car.

Yuusaku rolls up his sleeves and pulls himself up and over the metal cars. Chipped paint rubs off the metal and onto his hands, and he brushes himself clean as he climbs along the cars and rails up to the top-most car. The glass casing has been smashed away, so if he wanted to he could crawl inside and sit awkwardly in the plastic seats. But he and Takeru sit atop the metal car and kick their legs over the side.

Out here, there's nothing that either of them can hurt. His powers have never hurt Takeru, and despite the numerous times Takeru has lit his food or homework on fire, his powers don't seem to activate on Yuusaku’s being. Thus, with no trees to burn and no people to inflict karma upon, the two of them are at peace.

Swinging his legs from side to side, Takeru asks, "Hey, want to duel up here?"

Yuusaku raises an eyebrow. Neither of them have duel disks, so it would be like a deadly Entertainment-style duel with a high possibility of broken bones.

"It'll be fine," Takeru says. "Come on, stand up and duel me. No one's around."

Yuusaku crosses his arms, but after a moment he relents and pulls out his deck. Takeru flicks open a pouch at his hip and extracts his own deck. He swings himself around to face Yuusaku, and sets his deck down at his side. If they were at the school, they'd have duel disks, but out here it's traditional, table-top dueling with no fancy spells or technology. Not that Yuusaku cares—his own duel disk is one of the oldest models without AI interfacing or BlueTooth connectivity.

Not even a minute into the duel, Yuusaku hears footsteps. Their hideout isn't a secret, but it's not a common venue for other duelists. His head shoots up and he peers out inside the distance. There at the entrance is Spectre waving his hands up and down to gather their attention.

"Hey, hey, let's do a three-way!"

Yuusaku looks away.

"We're already in the middle of the match!" Takeru calls back. "And what are you doing out here?"

"Coming to watch," Spectre says, and before either of them can push him away, vines sprout beneath his feet and he rises into the air like a great god. The vines creep and crawl together to make a little pathway for him, and since there's no room atop the metal car, he settles on a stump that bursts from the earth. With a flick of his wrist, a handful of blueberries appear in his palm. He happily plucks one and holds it between his teeth.

Takeru scowls. "I'll burn you, you know that?"

"No you won't," Spectre says. "I'm stronger than you. Now come on, you're not even through the third hand. Just restart and let me join."

Yuusaku glances out into the clearing. If Spectre is around, would Ryouken be here too? He's the last person Yuusaku wants to see. This place is a safe haven for Yuusaku only because no one else frequents it. But if Spectre's here, the chances of his karma activating are fifty-fifty ... and if Ryouken here, it's one hundred to zero. But out in the distance, all Yuusaku sees are the rusty, abandoned shapes of old amusement park rides, and the ivy creeping along the tents and wooden stalls.

_ Good, he didn't come. _

Spectre drops his deck down between theirs, and smiles through his thin, pale lips. "I've even honed my deck."

Takeru pushes it aside, and sparks burst along his finger. It nearly singes Spectre's cards, but he pulls them away just in time.

"We're already dueling."

"No, you're distracted and talking with me."

"Why do you want to duel?" Takeru says, grinding the words between his teeth. "Do you think you'll get a prize or something?"

"For shits and giggles, of course," Spectre says.

"Fine," Yuusaku just as Takeru opens his mouth once more. "Start over." As the child of Dionysus, Spectre is determined to put himself in social situations. It'll do more harm to push him away and hope he scatters off; naturally, that'll just incite a battle between Spectre and Takeru, with Yuusaku's powers affecting both of them and creating an even larger mess.

He scoops up his set cards and shuffles them back into his deck. Takeru collects his own cards, glaring at Spectre all the while. Spectre ignores them, shuffling his cards with grandiose gestures, fluttering the cards together and tossing them through the air. When all their cards are shuffled, they place their decks down. Takeru rolls a die to determine who goes first—Yuusaku—and then the duel begins. Yuusaku has dueled both of them before, and since they all know each other, the duel isn't as mysterious: everyone knows everyone's main combos and strategies. Thus, this three-way is about outwitting the the other person.

"Have you been practising?" Spectre asks, licking his lips. "Dear Mr. Playmaker has quite the popularity."

"That's just Naoki," Takeru says. "Fanboy."

"I think you're earning the popularity of everyone," Spectre says. "Sad that you won't duel anyone else."

Yuusaku finishes his turn and snaps his cards together. He doesn't care much for chitchat, but both Takeru and Spectre never stop talking to one another. He ignores their conversation, watching from the corners of his eyes for any sign of other duelists. Would Go and Aoi seek him out too? Surely both of them are out in the main square showing off their proud dueling skills. Children of Nike—egotistical and competitive. He doesn't see Ryouken though.

"Yuusaku." Takeru nudges him on the shoulder. "Your turn."

He takes his turn again. To him, Duel Monsters is second nature. Its strategic elements are a second language for his brain, and he doesn't need to watch his opponents lengthy turns to know what sorts of moves they'll make against him. Fortunately, this match isn't a two vs. one; the last time Spectre roped them into a match, he got so pissed that Takeru stood up for Yuusaku that he did his best to wire Takeru up and cause him to set the board on fire. Cue Jin rushing in to deal damage control, and the children of Poseidon spraying water over everyone with their underdeveloped skills.

This match is fair though, with the three of them attacking one another based on who can deal the most damage to whom. Across from him, Takeru has his tongue pinched between his sharp teeth, and one hand raked through his white and red hair. When he pushes his hair back, he looks much more rebellious than the demure schoolboy look he normally wears. His green-rimmed glasses still keep the gentle air to him. No matter what expression Spectre wears, he looks devilish. His slim features and sickly composure add to his haunted expressions. Yuusaku often wonders why he can't make normal expressions when he duels.

Just as Yuusaku takes his turn, he feels something bubble within him. Someone's laid a Trap card for him, he can tell, but he knows the feeling of his powers activating, and before he can push himself back, the vines beneath Spectre  _ snap  _ like dry twigs, and the stump on which he sits cracks right at the epicentre and down to the ground. The log splits in two.

"The fuck!" Spectre shouts, leaping onto the metal car. Cards fly everywhere as Spectre kicks his feet out trying to regain his balance. Beneath them, the car gives an eerie, painful screech. Apparently three people have never sat on it before. Yuusaku and Takeru cling to the sides of the car, holding onto the busted windows below. Spectre holds his arms out trying not to tumble off the side.

"Use your powers!" Takeru shouts. "Spectre, your vines!"

Spectre swings his arms to the side, and vines burts from the ground and wrap around the base of the ferris wheel, acting as supports for the rickety metal. The car groans several times beneath them, but after a minute, they all let out a breath. Yuusaku heart hammers in his chest. His hands hurt from clinging to the windows, and he feels blood on his palms from old glass. 

_ Gotta get that bandaged later ... _

"Hey, Spectre, you out here?"

Yuusaku swallows. No, no, no—

He closes his eyes, but the damage has been done. All of Spectre's vines snap and the sound crackles through the air. Then the ferris wheel  _ tips,  _ groaning and moaning like an angry beast, and falls forward to no doubt where Ryouken has just appeared. Yuusaku squeezes his eyes closed and braces himself for the impact. It happens. He flies forward, up and over the ferris wheel and down to the ground. Naturally, his karma power reacts to his injury, for not a second later he hears Ryouken's shoes slide across the ground and with a  _ thwap!  _ he falls onto his back too.

"Yuusaku!"

He keeps his eyes closed; he doesn't need to see the damage done. To his side, Takeru groans as he drags himself upright and coughs weakly. He sounds like he fell onto his back too. Spectre mutters f-bombs under his breath as he rises too, and Yuusaku hears him brush himself off. Yuusaku remains on the ground and doesn't move an inch. His back stings with the fall, and he doesn't dare raise his head.

"Yuusaku, here, lemme help you up," Takeru says, and brushes his hand against Yuusaku.

Yuusaku flinches as if stung.

"No, no, here, gimme your hand. I'll help you up—"

"Fuck." One clear word feels like a knife through his heart. Yuusaku slowly opens his eyes. Ryouken stands a couple feet away, white pants covered in dusty marks from his fall. He looks startled yet trying to hide it, as he can't keep his brows furrowed or his lips pursed without his features shaking with barely-hidden fear. He crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. "For once?"

"Why are you out here?" Takeru says. He grabs Yuusaku hands and pulls him to his feet. Yuusaku stumbles with his footing, but eventually holds himself up. He refuses to meet Ryouken's stare. If he and Ryouken fight, Ryouken will end up on the ground again. Or worse. And they both know it.

"I was looking for Spectre," Ryouken says. He swings his gaze to Spectre, who smiles sheepishly and says, "Gotta duel."

Ryouken rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

Takeru bounces from foot to foot. "Hey, maybe we could have a four-way—"

"No." Ryouken and Yuusaku say it both at the same time. Yuusaku's eyes widen, and before he can blurt something else out, Ryouken leaps to the side before a metal pole, once attached to an old tent, clocks him on the head. Ryouken raises an eyebrow, as if to prove a point.

"Heh." Takeru chuckles under his breath and rubs at his head. "Yeah, all right. Well, thanks for stopping by, you two. Maybe Yuusaku and I will beat you someday."

Ryouken merely turns on his heel and storms away. The edges of his white blazer flutter behind him with each determined step he takes.

"Try not to blow anything up on your way home!" Spectre says, and waves as he hurries off to catch up with Ryouken. Yuusaku watches them go, hoping nothing else falls on Ryouken's head. He doesn't like the guy—self-centred, cocky, thinks he's hot shit and all—but Yuusaku would never wish harm on another demigod. And yet his terribly godly powers, more like a curse, intend on making his life a living hell.

Takeru claps him on the shoulder. "No major casualties," he says with a grin. "No come on, let's continue our duel."

Yuusaku turns back to the ferris wheel. It's toppled over the drop tower now, but there are still a handful of metal cars that somehow survived the crash. Spectre's roots are also wrapped along the frame. It's not any safer than it was before ...

Looping their arms together, Takeru tugs him towards the ferris wheel. "We've gotta have at least one good match today."

"Sure," Yuusaku says. "One good match."


End file.
